


Somniloquy

by shootingstarcipher



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Cruise!AU, Dark, Demon!Bill, Human!Bill, Insanity, M/M, Mystery, PTSD, Romance, Self-Harm, mental instabiltity, possible (underage) smut/masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:03:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootingstarcipher/pseuds/shootingstarcipher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have been easy. All Bill wanted was to kill and all Dipper wanted was to die, and yet he couldn’t do it. He should have saved himself the trouble and killed him right there and then when he asked for it, but now it’ll never happen.<br/>The least he can do now is save Dipper the pain and leave him alone, but he won’t do that either.<br/>Bill had never known what it meant to feel torn until he happened to cross into one of Dipper’s nightmares, and now his own existence is plagued with a terror he’d never thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erased

It could have been worse. Probably. At least they were getting away from it all now. After a long bus journey to the quiet town of Gravity Falls where they guessed nothing ever happened and should have been glad for that, given their own sordid background, Dipper - though exhausted after a sleepless night - was walking alongside his great uncle Ford and dragging his twin sister, Mabel, along with him. The three of them (as well as Stan, and Wendy and Soos who worked in Stan’s roadside attraction: the Mystery Shack) were making their way towards an enormous, albeit not as fancy as others like it, cruise ship known as the Morning Star.

According to Grunkle Stan, a ten-day cruise was just what they needed. Secretly, Dipper thought he was really meaning that a ten-day cruise was just what he needed, but Ford agreed and so he kept quiet about his own opinion. Mabel seemed as happy and as carefree as she ever did, but that was no surprise to him. It was difficult to tell whether it was genuine or not at the moment. Usually it was as insincere as it possibly could be, but now they were finally safe. Or at least, that’s what they were being told. This had happened before: they were assured of their safety, only to fall back into the same old despicable routine some weeks or even days later. He’d lost hope already. Mabel hadn’t.

She’d told him on the bus ride that she really thought they were being rescued this time. Dipper hoped she was right but couldn’t bring himself to believe it - not just yet, anyway. They didn’t even know Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford. They could be just as bad. Mabel said that much badness couldn’t exist within just one family, but he wasn’t so sure about it. What if they grew up to be just as horrible?

They reached the Morning Star nearly an hour before it was due to set sail. It had been arranged that Dipper and Mabel would share a cabin while the other four would each have their own. They didn’t mind. They were used to doing everything together and Dipper doubted that would change during the trip.

As they trudged onto the boat and headed in the direction of their cabins, Mabel asked Stan a question Dipper hadn’t dared even ask himself: whether they’d ever go home or not. He covered his ears with his hands and stared at the floor, blocking out Stan’s reply. Nobody questioned it. In fact, they were surprised that Mabel had even bothered asking. Dipper wasn’t sure how much his uncle’s employees knew about their lives at home - though he hoped they knew nothing about it - but he had no intention of announcing it to them and prayed silently that no-one else would say anything about it to them either.

Their cabins were all on the same deck, in a consecutive sequence. His and Mabel’s cabin was the same size as everybody else’s despite housing two people instead of just one. The room was mostly white with a dark blue carpet, a large circular window between the two single beds (which were blue and white to match the rest of the cabin) and a desk and chair stood in the corner by door, across from which stood the a tall, thin wardrobe. One wall was lined almost completely with mirrors. Mabel immediately threw herself onto the bed closest to the mirrors, leaving her luggage by the open door. Dipper dragged his feet - and his suitcase - to the empty bed and laid on it, secretly hoping nobody would notice his lack of enthusiasm.

While Mabel was itching to look around the place whilst they waited for the Morning Star to leave the harbour, Dipper - who simply wanted nothing more than to relax in their cabin - managed to convince her to come around to his way of thinking. He persuaded her to stay and unpack her things, telling her that it wouldn’t be long before the ship started to move anyway. Stan had told them to stay together and not go wandering off on their own, so they had to either stay there or both go off together.

And so they stayed cooped up inside the cabin for the best part of an hour, both of them on their respective beds: Dipper lying back reading a book and Mabel sat up straight flicking through her scrapbook. There were too many blank pages for her liking. She hung her camera around her neck, preparing to take as many photos as possible throughout their trip.

As the boat finally started to move, she leapt from her bed and bounded towards the door like an over-excited puppy. “Mabel, wait,” Dipper groaned, his hazy eyes trying hard to focus on the words in front of them but ultimately failing. “We have to stay together, remember?” She turned and stared at him as if he were mad. “That means you can’t go without me, and I’m too tired at the moment to go anywhere.”

“But Dipper, I have to get out of here,” she whined. “I’ve got…” She paused and giggled. “Cabin fever! And besides, I want to start making some friends.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep her there for much longer, but after begging her to stay while he had a nap - promising she could wake him up after half an hour - she finally gave in and sat back down on her bed. Snatching his book away from him, she watched him like a hawk until he fell asleep. And then she watched the clock on the wall while he slept, counting the seconds until she could finally get out of their cabin.

 

One of two things could happen to him whenever he tried to sleep. Either he didn’t sleep at all and spent the following day wandering around like some kind of insomniac zombie, or he relived the horrors of his home life in his dreams. Any chance of having a pleasant dream had been stolen from him long ago by the people he was supposed to trust the most. This time was no different.

He found himself back at home. He was inside his and Mabel’s bedroom, alone, and frantically pulling on the door handle in attempt to open it. It was locked. There was blood dripping down his arms and spilling onto the cream carpet beneath his bruised, dirty bare feet. He glanced down at it and groaned, knowing he’d have to clean it up later. But that was the least of his problems.

Mabel was screaming outside the bedroom door. God only knew what was happening to her, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good. He pounded his fists on the door, ignoring the pain searing through both his arms, but to no avail. Everyone else in the house was probably paying too much attention to whatever horrible thing they were doing to Mabel and therefore completely overlooking her twin brother’s desperate pleas. She was screaming for them - whoever it was - to stop, though they all knew it wasn’t going to happen. In any case, they’d probably stored him away in the bedroom for later, and locked him in there so he couldn’t help fight them off.

“They’re not done with you just yet, Pine Tree.” A voice coming from behind him startled him. This had never happened before. Up until now, his nightmares had been direct copies from his experiences in real life, and yet now he turned to find a human-sized golden triangle floating a few inches off the ground, with one eye in the middle of it, a bow tie just underneath its eye, limbs dangling off its body and a thin black top hat on top of its point.

Reminding himself it was just a dream and strange things could happen in them, he turned back to face the door and carried on trying to open it in spite of his knowledge that any attempt to get out of the room was futile. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes, threatening to cascade down his cheeks in melancholy distress. But then it suddenly felt as if he was no longer in control of his own body and he twisted round involuntarily, his eyes glued to the glowing creature in front of him.

“Listen to me, kid.” He didn’t want to listen to the creature at all, but he supposed he had no choice, so once his body was freed from the monster’s paranormal grip, he slid down to the floor and looked up at the creature with sad eyes as he listened to what it had to say to him. “They’re not done with you yet, but I could get you out of here before they come back to finish you off. All you have to do is agree to give me something in return, and if you agree to how I’m going to help you, you won’t have to do anything else.” Dipper raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s the one thing you want right now? What do you really want?”

Dipper thought hard about it and clutched his arms, getting bloodstains on his hands. He wanted Mabel to be safe. The monster disagreed with him. “That’s not what you want, kid. I know what you want. You want…” The creature paused and Dipper suddenly realised what was coming. “You want to die.”

The monster was right. That’s why Dipper didn’t argue back.

“You’ll be safe from them,” the golden creature reminded him, pointing towards the door. “There’ll be no more pain. You’ll never, ever have to go through all this again.” Holding out its hand, the monster clicked its fingers, causing a blue flame to hover above its hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Dipper frowned and hung his head, lowering his gaze to the floor. “What are you getting out of this?” he asked, confused by it all.

“Isn’t that obvious?” the monster replied, laughing at him. “I’m getting to kill you.”

Standing up from the floor, Dipper considered the creature’s proposal carefully. This was dream. It was all just a nightmare. And so, it didn’t matter what he did, because it would all lead to him waking up in a cold sweat, not being erased from existence as the creature was suggesting. Leaning forward, he reached out to shake the monster’s hand, but the one-eyed creature pulled its own clawed hand back before they could make contact.

“On second thoughts, I’d rather have some more fun with you.”

 

He woke up gasping for breath. Mabel noticed his distress immediately and pulled him up into a sitting position. He leaned forwards and slowly began to recover, his breaths becoming deeper as he regained control of it. According to Mabel, he’d been talking in his sleep again. This quite often happened now - now that every moment he spent asleep he also spent trapped in a nightmare. She could never understand what he was saying - just incoherent and sometimes muffled ramblings - and more often than not, he woke up screaming.

Once he had calmed down and steadied himself again, he willingly left the cabin with his sister, intending to explore the rest of the ship with her. As they walked down the hallway - Mabel being several steps ahead of her brother - she talked about what they could do to pass time there on the Morning Star. Apparently, Stan had told her there were several swimming pools, a gym, a few restaurants, a casino (which explained why he was so enthusiastic about the trip) as well as a cinema or two. “And there’s even a library for you, Dipper!” She grinned excitedly, clearly trying to cheer him up. He forced a smile, though he had to admit he hadn’t expected there to be anything he particularly wanted to do there.

As they passed Grunkle Ford’s cabin - which he had left just seconds earlier - Dipper noticed that his door had been left ajar. He stopped by the door, pulling his sister back to where he was standing, and pushed it open so he could get a better look inside. There was a book lying open on the desk and, although he tried to fight off the urge to get closer to it, he slipped in through the open door and started reading the book. Mabel hissed at him to hurry up and he realised that he’d been in trouble if Ford came back and found him “snooping” (as Stan called it), so he shoved it into his backpack and hoped he wouldn’t notice. It was the most reckless thing he’d ever done and he wasn’t proud of it, but he needed to read more of the book he’d found and past experience told him asking for something wouldn’t get him anywhere - and instead he’d end up with a few sore bruises and a fracture or two.

They spent nearly an hour exploring the ship before Mabel grew hungry and dragged him into the nearest restaurant, where they quickly found Wendy sitting alone and joined her. The fifteen year old offered to buy them lunch and while Mabel accepted her offer eagerly, Dipper sat in silence and stared off into space, itching to take the book out and read some more of it. The short extract he’d read already talked about something known as an “eyebat”, which was described as a creature composed only of a single eyeball and two wings which protruded from its sides; there was a diagram to go with it. Everything in the book was handwritten and hand-drawn, leading him to conclude that it was a journal of some kind.

A shadow was suddenly cast over the table, coming from behind Dipper’s head, and he looked over his shoulder to find a waiter hovering over him. The waiter placed a tray containing Mabel and Wendy’s food down on the circular wooden table and walked away without a word, sending one last angry glance in the redhead’s direction before leaving. When Mabel asked what it was about, Wendy scowled down at the table and took an aggressive bite of her sandwich.

“I hate that guy,” she growled, her chewing growing even more violent. “I know him from back home.” The two twelve year olds raised their eyebrows at her questioningly. “He’s just a jerk,” she muttered dismissively.

Throughout the rest of their meal, Wendy chatted with Mabel and sometimes tried to include Dipper in the conversation, but he stayed mostly silent and only occasionally joined in. He spent most of the time watching the two of them, but then grew bored and started looking around at the restaurant, observing the other customers. Grunkle Stan’s other employee, Soos (the Mystery Shack’s handyman), was at the counter, harassing the waiter that Wendy hated. Dipper considered Soos a gentle giant, so he probably wasn’t meaning to do anything malicious, but was more likely trying to befriend him.

After lunch - Dipper still wasn’t hungry - Mabel and Wendy went off together whilst Dipper returned to their cabin. He sat there, thinking about his strange nightmare for a few minutes, but quickly took out the journal from his backpack and opened it to the first page. He read through it fast, as he always did, and it didn’t take long for him to become entranced by it. 

One particular page caught his attention. The edge in the middle of the double page was jagged, as if a page had been torn out. Something else he happened to notice which piqued his curiosity was that on several of the pages after the one that had clearly been ripped out, the rubbery remnants of an eraser had been left behind, indicating that someone had erased some of the handwritten information contained within the journal.

Someone knocked at the door. He stood up from his seat and hastily shoved the journal back into his backpack before opening the door. He knew it wouldn’t have been Mabel (she would have just walked in) but he had expected it to be either one of his great uncles or Soos or Wendy. Instead, he found himself gazing up at a tall, lanky blond boy - who couldn’t have been much older than himself - wearing old-fashioned clothing and an eyepatch which obscured his left eye from Dipper’s view. He had a graceful air about him and Dipper would have considered him attractive if it hadn’t been for his cold, unforgiving eye and callous smirk.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?” He cocked his head innocently, though his heartless grin betrayed him. Dipper’s body trembled at the harsh familiarity of the stranger’s voice and he took a shaky step back, his quivering hand moving to close the door. “That just won’t do,” the golden haired boy growled, keeping his voice steady in spite of his obvious frustration, and stopped the door from closing with his foot. Pushing his way into the cabin, he grinned wildly at the look of terror in Dipper’s eyes and slammed the door behind him.

“I… I don’t know you,” Dipper stammered nervously, backing away from him further until he fell onto his bed.

The stranger laughed at him and leaned back against the door, blocking his only exit. “Sure you do. The name’s Bill.” Dipper frowned at him, struggling to remember the name. He was sure he’d never met anyone called Bill. Maybe someone he’d known from school… Moving away from the door, Bill held out his hand, intending for Dipper to shake it. He didn’t. After the nightmare he’d had earlier, he was wary about accepting handshakes from people he didn’t know.

Still, it would have been impolite not to introduce himself, although Bill seemed to know who he was without any introductions. Once they’d gotten that out of the way, Bill laughed off his earlier cruelty and acted like he’d been joking. He convinced Dipper - remarkably quickly; Mabel would have been jealous - to leave the cabin again and he led the younger boy to the library, somehow knowing without being told that his favourite (and only) pastime was reading.

The library was even bigger than he’d hoped it would be. There must have been thousands of books within its shelves and he caught Bill smirking at the look of awe on his face out the corner of his eye. He jerked his hand away when Bill tried to grab hold of it and apologised immediately, instantly remembering what had happened the last time he’d rejected another’s touches.

“Don’t look so scared, kid,” the boy laughed and Dipper couldn’t help thinking it was odd for another adolescent to refer to someone else as a “kid”, but he didn’t recognise the phrase until later on. The two of them sat reading for over an hour, mainly in silence, though he didn’t suppose Bill did much reading as every time he looked up, the blond boy was staring right at him and only lowered his gaze to the book in front of him whenever he was caught.

The tiredness was getting to him again. At one point he thought he saw Stan walk passed the library - though he could barely believe he’d left the ship’s casino - and closed the mystery novel he’d been reading, returned it to the bookshelf, and then he and Bill left the library. They didn’t find Stan. They did, however, find Grunkle Ford in the hallway of one of the upper decks. He was crouching on the carpeted floor, leaning over and examining something closely. A crowd of other guests of the Morning Star were circled around him, peering at him with shocked - and slightly fearful - faces.

As they drew closer, they soon found out why.

Lying on the floor, just beside Dipper’s uncle, was a cold, lifeless body, the face of which he recognised. It was the waiter - of whom Wendy had expressed an intense dislike and who had rejected Soos’ friendship just a few hours earlier. And on the breast of his otherwise crisp, clean white jacket was a dark red splatter of blood.

When he eventually managed to tear his eyes away from the body, he turned to look at Bill, only to find that he had already vanished.


	2. Flesh & Blood

Following the death of the waiter (which was now being regarded as a murder) every guest as well as well every member of the crew had gathered together in the ballroom, a colossal hall with polished stone flooring and walls adorned with the regal decorations beyond what most of the passengers were capable of imagining, though at such a frightful time nobody was paying much attention to the ship’s embellishments. 

As he stood between Grunkle Ford - who had discovered the waiter’s body - and Mabel, Dipper couldn’t help noticing that Bill was still nowhere to be seen. He kept it to himself, however, reminding himself that there were so many passengers it would be unreasonable to assume he could see everyone clearly, though it was strange how Bill had disappeared.

A dark-haired man dressed in a smart black and white suit was standing on a podium and addressing the crowd in a calm, composed manner as Dipper supposed he needed to in order to soothe the passengers (and the staff) after such a tragic, fearsome occurrence. He told them all not to worry and assured them they were in safe hands. Dipper raised an eyebrow in suspicion and wondered if anyone was really taken in by his speech. Of course, the man was simply doing what the situation demanded he did, but surely no-one truly felt safe on the boat anymore.

Once the man finished his less than reassuring speech and stepped down from the podium, the once orderly crowd of passengers descended into anarchy, with each person wildly accusing another and many of them rushing out of the ballroom and charging towards their respective cabins like a stampeding herd of buffalo. Dipper wasn’t one of them. He and Mabel pressed their backs up against the nearest wall, quietly observing the disarray erupting around them.

Stan was amongst those who ran out, though he suspected he was actually rushing back to the casino and not his cabin. Ford, on the other hand, stayed with the two children and followed them to the wall. He caught hold of Dipper’s shoulder, unintentionally startling him, but let go when he saw him jump back in horror. He muttered an apology and then started up a conversation with him. “That blond kid you were with earlier,” he started and Dipper’s ears pricked up. “Do you know him?”

Dipper shook his head in reply. “No, not really. I only just met him. Why? Did you see where he went?”

“No…” Ford grunted sternly and Dipper’s face fell. “I was just wondering…” He trailed off, his gazing off into the distance. He then turned away, telling the two siblings to go back to their cabin and not to come out until either he or Stan told him it was safe to. He escorted them back to their cabin and left, disappearing presumably into his own, though neither of the twelve year olds saw where he went. Once they were left alone, Mabel immediately began asking her brother questions about who he thought committed the murder - not leaving out her interest in the boy Dipper had allegedly been seen with.

Dipper wasn’t particularly pleased with all the questions but tried to push his displeasure aside for the sake of his sister. She knew about his interest in mysteries and that’s why she thought he might be able to shed some light on the murder, but he really had no idea who’d done it. In spite of him trying not to, he couldn’t help but think of Wendy when his sister asked who he thought committed the murder, considering her obvious dislike of the victim. But if she’d been planning on killing him - and he really didn’t think she was the type to commit murder (maybe a petty crime like theft or trespassing out of recklessness, but certainly not murder) - why would she have expressed such obvious hatred of him?

As for the blond boy he’d been spotted with, he told her how he’d met Bill and how they’d spent a while reading together in the library, but kept quiet about his disappearance. Surely there was a reasonable explanation for it? There must have been. There was a reasonable explanation for everything, as far as Dipper Pines was concerned.

“I can’t believe you made a friend before me,” Mabel groaned, having spent most of her time that day trying to befriend anyone and everyone she came across. There weren’t many other children on the cruise, she’d noticed, and the few she’d spoken to weren’t at all interested in her; one of them - a pretty, wealthy-looking girl with a sour face - had even chastised her for daring to speak to her. “Nobody seems to be very friendly here,” she sniffed, her eyes filling with tears.

“Nobody was very friendly at home either,” Dipper miserably pointed out. Moving to sit on his sister’s bed, he put his arm around her in attempt to comfort her. He’d seen it before, although he’d never experienced it. Neither of them had. Comfort was a completely foreign feeling to the two of them, though they’d tried to soothe each other in the past when it was necessary. “Anyway,” he mused, his thoughts focusing on Bill again. “Bill and I aren’t really friends. We only just met. Does that count?” Mabel nodded and forced a grin, but a knock on the cabin door startled them, causing her to jump back in surprise.

“Of course we’re friends,” a voice called from the hallway. He knocked on the door again and asked to be let in before Dipper opened the door and invited him into the cabin. Upon seeing Mabel, however, Bill stepped back into the corridor and asked to speak to Dipper alone. Reluctantly, Dipper obliged, though he glanced nervously at his sister as he closed the cabin door behind him, remembering Ford’s instruction to stay inside their cabin until he or Stan told them otherwise.

The door closed with a click and he scanned the corridor to check they were alone. Bill did the same. He took a step closer to the younger boy, sending him stumbling back towards the door, and pinned him against it, using his arms to cage him in. Dipper’s body trembled and he used one hand to frantically search for the door handle, but Bill caught hold of his hand and wrapped his own around his wrist, causing a short yet terrifying flashback to ensue. Dipper’s heart was racing and his breath hitched in his throat. Bill wasn’t Bill anymore, but the image of him had melted away into one of his abusers. After a few terrorising seconds, his vision focused on Bill again and it became apparent that he had endured a flashback and what he’d seen and felt hadn’t been real.

He was about to ask what Bill was doing but only managed to croak out a single syllable before the taller boy cut him off. “You don’t think I did it, do you?” he growled, the harshness of his voice disconcerting the younger boy. “Sorry, bad habit,” Bill mumbled, letting go of Dipper’s wrist and freeing him from the prison he’d created. “But you don’t, do you? I mean, I was with you at the time it happened.” 

Dipper shook his head in response. If it hadn’t been for the elder’s sudden roughness, he wouldn’t have suspected him at all, but it was true that they’d been together in the library at the time of the murder and so logic dictated he couldn’t have committed it. And yet he couldn’t fight the feeling of suspicion welling up inside his mind. In a way, it felt like Bill demanding to know whether he was a suspect or not was essentially a confession.

“You like mysteries, right? You were reading a mystery novel earlier,” he added when Dipper frowned at him, clearly surprised that he’d noticed. “Why don’t you try and figure out who did it? Even if you don’t manage it, it’d be fun. And I could be your sidekick - the Dr. Watson to your Sherlock, or whatever.” He was beaming, grinning from ear to ear, and Dipper felt compelled to smile along with him. It wasn’t a bad idea and he was right, it would have been fun. He didn’t need much convincing, and so when he returned to the cabin - Bill went off on his own, saying he was going to “gather evidence” - he sat back on his own bed and started to make a list of his suspects.

Bill wasn’t one of them. Besides, he could hardly ask him to gather evidence incriminating himself, and as he’s already pointed out, they had been together around the time the murder was committed. He felt obliged to put both Wendy and Soos on the list - Wendy for expressing contempt towards the murder victim prior to his death and Soos because while it seemed unlikely he had it in him to kill, he certainly hadn’t been happy with the waiter after failing to befriend him. Grunkle Stan was a possibility too, considering the fact that he was no stranger to criminal activity. Ford didn’t seem like the type, but after what he and his sister had been through with their parents, there was no question of what his own flesh and blood were capable of.

He put down his pencil and looked up at Mabel. He had no idea where she’d been at the time of the murder and he didn’t want to believe she could do it, but trauma did strange things to people and the two of them were unstable enough as it was. He left her off the list but made a mental note to keep an eye on her, both for her own safety and that of everyone else.

When Ford finally came back to their cabin, he took them out for their evening meal in one of the restaurants. As they ate, he asked about “the blond kid he’d been hanging around with” again, this time asking whether he’d seen him again. Mabel immediately jumped in and said he’d come to their cabin earlier and spoken to him, though she didn’t know about what. Ford turned his attention back to Dipper and looked at him sternly, his gaze hardening as he asked what they’d spoken about. Dipper shrugged anxiously, unsure of what to tell him, and said that his friend didn’t want him to tell anyone. He’d hoped Ford would leave him alone after that, hating the feeling that he was being interrogated - he hadn’t done anything wrong and he was sure Bill hadn’t either - but his uncle carried on questioning him, this time asking if he’d had any nightmares recently.

Again, Mabel interrupted their conversation. This time Dipper didn’t mind. “Dipper always has nightmares,” she blurted out. “He talks in his sleep.”

Thankfully, the questions stopped after that and they finished their meals in almost complete silence. Mabel finished eating before they did and so she wandered around the restaurant on her own, looking for other children she could befriend. That’s how she came across Candy - a dark-haired oriental girl with glasses - and Grenda - a kind-hearted, masculine girl who was sitting at the same table as Candy. 

When she and Dipper returned to their cabin - escorted by Ford, naturally - later on, she waited for their uncle to leave before announcing to Dipper that she planned on meeting up with her two new friends that evening. He wasn’t sure about her safety and tried to convince her to stay, but she was having none of it and he ended up promising to cover for her if Ford came back. After first checking that the corridor was empty, she slipped out of their cabin and headed towards the indoor swimming pool - with her swimming costume on under her clothes - which is where she and her new friends had agreed to meet.

Shortly after she left, Bill turned up at the cabin again and this time he stayed inside, glad to find that he and Dipper were alone together. Dipper had been reading through the journal he’d found in Ford’s cabin when Bill came to see him again, and he snapped it shut and hid it in his backpack the second he heard him knock on the door.

It was late but they stayed up chatting for a while, though most of their conversations were relatively quiet. Dipper was coming to realise that he simply enjoyed having Bill around and being in his presence as opposed to actually talking to him, and the older boy seemed to be shy as well, meaning they barely spoke to one another while they were together. When Dipper began to grow tired, he and Bill walked to the end of the hall together and got ready for bed in the communal bathroom before returning to the cabin.

Turning off the light as they entered the cabin, Dipper climbed into his bed and pulled the sheets over him, surprised when Bill slipped in beside him. “You don’t mind, do you?” the blond boy mumbled sleepily, stifling a yawn. “I feel safe around you.”

Dipper was conflicted. He did mind, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the thought of the older boy feeling comforted by his presence, so he stayed quiet and allowed Bill to stay, even feeling soothed by the warmth radiating from the elder’s body as they slept. He didn’t have a nightmare that night. For the first time in years, Dipper Pines had pleasant dreams. But when he woke up the following morning, the reason he’d felt so safe was gone, disappearing into the darkness as he always seemed to do.


	3. Scream

As he and Mabel got themselves dressed, preparing to go to one of the Morning Star’s restaurants for breakfast (provided at least one of their uncles permitted them to) she questioned him about the blond boy that had been there last night. Apparently he’d still been asleep in Dipper’s bed when she’d returned but had gone some time before she woke up. Dipper didn’t know what to say so he said the minimum and told her he hadn’t wanted to sleep alone and neither had his friend, so he’d asked Bill to stay with him, but he didn’t know why he’d left in the middle of the night. Mabel instantly narrowed her eyes and suggested he’d gone off to do something he didn’t want him knowing about - something suspicious - but Dipper disregarded her suggestion as nothing more than idle speculation. For some reason, he trusted Bill. He felt safe around him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

A shrill scream interrupted their conversation. It came from one of the other cabins on their deck, to the left of where they stood. Dipper’s instincts told him to run towards it while the voice of reason told him not to move a muscle, and so he started towards the door and froze with hand on the door handle, realising he would be making a mistake by running towards the danger. If it was important, Grunkle Stan or Ford would be there soon to tell them what had happened. Mabel insisted it but he only hoped it was true.

As it turned out, it was important and Grunkle Ford came to tell them so while Stan stayed with the victim. The scream, however, had not been elicited from the victim herself, but from one of the ship’s maids and for a reason much less urgent. The maid had screamed because of a patch of mud that had found its way onto the usually spotless white rug in   
Wendy’s cabin. On the other hand, Wendy had a much more justified reason to be afraid but didn’t seem to be as emotional as the maid. She had awoken that morning to find a note left on her bedside cabinet - more specifically, a threatening one, written entirely in blood. The note addressed her only as “Red” and had been left anonymous.

After explaining to the twins what had happened, Ford returned to Wendy’s cabin to speak with her - presumably about the note and how it may have been linked to the murder - and Stan came with Soos to take them for breakfast, after which he ordered all three of them to return to their cabins. “This trip is going to be dull if we have to stay in there all the time,” Mabel reflected grouchily, earning a sigh from Grunkle Stan. He didn’t want to stay inside his cabin either and understood the feeling of restlessness they must have been getting, but it was for their safety and that was his priority. He and Ford and had reluctantly decided to agree that for the time being - until they knew more about who had committed the murder and how to keep the children safe - they weren’t allowed to come out of their cabins without an escort.

On their way back from the restaurant, Mabel caught sight of her two new friends - Candy and Grenda - in one of the corridors and tried to sneak away from the others, only to be caught immediately by Grunkle Stan and pulled back to the rest of the group. He gave her a stern look and then did the same to her friends, silently warning them to keep away for the moment, and led her and her brother back to their cabin. Soos followed behind them and returned to his own much more eagerly than the twins, reminding them of the dangers that lurked outside the safety of their cabins, which locked automatically from the outside so no-one could break into them without a key.

Once inside their cabin again, Dipper decided it was time to share his interest in the journal with his sister. He took it out of his backpack and laid it on the desk, telling her to come over and look at it. “This is what I found in Grunkle Ford’s room,” he said in a hushed voice in case someone was listening outside the room. “It talks about all the strange goings on in Gravity Falls - monsters and weird creatures, like that.” He paused on one page and pointed to a sketch of a gnome. “I don’t know if it’s real or not, but this is Grunkle Ford we’re talking about. He doesn’t seem to be the type to read fiction, and besides, it’s all handwritten.”

The expression on Mabel’s face conveyed all the excitement and curiosity he was feeling. “I can’t wait to show Candy and-” she suddenly exclaimed, only to be cut off by her brother’s frown. “Well, I guess I could hold off on telling them for a while,” she muttered half-heartedly. “Any more thoughts about the murder?” she asked a moment later, changing the subject as the two of them sat down on their respective beds, facing each other. “And what about Wendy’s note? Weird, isn’t it?”

Dipper nodded solemnly. He hated the thought that someone had threatened her. He hadn’t known her for long, but had already developed an affection for her he couldn’t explain, much like the warmth he felt for Bill. “It doesn’t make sense. I’m assuming whoever wrote the note was at least involved in the murder somehow, but why go after Wendy?” She hadn’t done anything wrong, as far he was aware, so it seemed like the murderer had no reason to warn her off. “We’ll need to get a closer look at that note if we’re going to figure it out.”

That was easier said than done and he knew it. Mabel had been able to sneak out the night before but there was no guarantee they’d pull it off a second time - and so soon - and this was particularly true as Wendy was confined to her cabin as they were, and there was no telling where Stan and Ford were. But if anyone would be able to get out without them knowing, it would be Wendy. They may not have known her for long, but the twins were sure of that.

“Hey Dipper,” Mabel spoke up after a few moments of silence. “How did you sleep last night? I heard you talking when I came in but… I don’t know. You didn’t sound like you were having a nightmare.”

“I wasn’t,” he replied curtly. He couldn’t remember what he’d dreamt about at all, but he knew it hadn’t been a nightmare like it usually was.

It took just over an hour for Wendy to reach them, guessing they’d want to read the note she’d been left and being willing to let them do so. She was only a few years older than them, despite how much more mature she appeared (particularly in their eyes), and was keen to garner all the support she could. Ford and Stan were well-meaning, but there was no doubt in her mind that Dipper, Mabel and Soos would understand what she was going through much more and could help her make sense of it. Believing Soos to be a bit of a troublemaker (though his heart was always in the right place) she took the note to the twins’ cabin first and showed it to them. 

She handed it to Dipper on her way in and he read it aloud. “Red,” he frowned as he read the very first word - mentally noting that it likely meant whoever had written it was unaware of her identity, or was at least trying to make it seem that way - but carried on after sharing a confused glance with his sister. “Back off. He doesn’t want you anywhere near him. Keep away or you’ll end up just like you-know-who.” That was it. There was no signature - which wasn’t surprising - but what shocked him was how little it seemed to have to do with the waiter’s murder.

“So what does this tell us?” Mabel piped up, sounding just as confused as the other two were.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Dipper grumbled sulkily, his gaze scanning the note in his hands for a second time. “Except it was sent by someone who doesn’t know your name,” he suggested to Wendy, who nodded in agreement. “And they want you to leave someone alone.”

Wendy rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms. “Well done, stating the obvious like that. It’d be a lot easier to stay away from someone if they’d tell me who they don’t want me to be around.” She made a good point, and Dipper mentioned that it probably meant whoever wrote the note assumed she’d know who they were talking about.

Wendy didn’t stay long. She left to sneak back into her own cabin before either Ford or Stan realised she’d gone and took the note back with her, leaving the twins to gather their thoughts on the matter. Stan came to see them not long after she left, asking if they wanted to go to the pool with him to stretch their legs. Naturally, they eagerly agreed, and took their swimming things with them as they followed him down a series of corridors and up several flights of stairs until they came to an indoor pool; all the while, Mabel silently prayed her friends would be there at the same time as her.

Unfortunately, they weren’t. But Dipper’s new friend was.

As he walked out of the changing rooms in nothing but his swimming shorts, a hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back in. He whirled around - aided by the hand grasping his wrist - to face the blond boy he’d met the day before, Bill. He bit his lower instinctively and froze, instantly becoming anxious at the familiarity of being grabbed at unexpectedly. As a side-effect of what he’d been through at home, he hated being touched. Any physical contact made him clam up with anxiety. Bill noticed this and let go of him, but kept his gaze locked on his eyes.

“You talk a lot in your sleep, you know that?” Dipper nodded, dumbfounded by his strangely out of place remark. He couldn’t help noticing that in spite of them being in the changing room, Bill was still wearing his old-fashioned attire. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” the older boy muttered resentfully, his voice laced with jealousy. “I don’t suppose you remember what you were dreaming about?” He looked disappointed when Dipper shook his head and sighed.

Dipper stared at him nervously, struggling to understand why he was so interested in his dreams. “Why did you leave last night?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a hoarse whisper.

Bill looked away, breaking eye contact. “Oh, I just had somewhere to be,” he said evasively, making Dipper slightly suspicious of him and his elusive nature. “Listen, kid, there’s something you need to know…” He paused, glancing towards the door. They heard footsteps and voices outside the door and took hold of the younger boy’s hand again, muttering an apology when he felt his muscles tense, and pulled him into one of the cubicles, locking the door behind them.

Dipper was about to protest when Bill trapped him against the back of the door with his body and put one hand over his mouth, forcing him to keep quiet. “Don’t,” he hissed, but then smiled softly to show he wasn’t being malicious. “You’ve hear of Pacifica Northwest?” The younger boy nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when Bill took his hand away from his mouth. Mabel had mentioned the name to him earlier. Apparently she was one of the stuck-up guests of the Morning Star who had bluntly refused her offer of friendship. “She’s telling everyone I killed that waiter yesterday. She’s saying she saw me with the murder weapon, but I swear I didn’t go near him. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

His eyes - or at least the one that was visible - were pleading and all of Dipper’s anxiety melted away in an instant. His voice trembled as he spoke and Bill took a step back to give him room to breathe, but Dipper found his hand with own and laced their fingers together. “I believe you.”

Then another scream interrupted them and he tensed up again.


	4. Thirst for Blood

It was Mabel this time, and her fear was definitely justified.

Dipper ran out without giving it a second’s thought, even going so far as to momentarily disregard the rules of safety he’d abided by his entire life to the point where Bill had to pull him back and remind him that running so close to the pool was just asking for disaster, until he reached his twin sister and was able to make sure she wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t. But it was a shame the same couldn’t be said for the woman lying face down in the water, still and lifeless.

Mabel’s scream had been short-lived and was a vocalisation of shock rather than fear. As she quickly explained to her brother (and the crowd that had gathered round her), she had been the first to get to the swimming pool since getting changed and no-one else had been there - except, of course, for the corpse floating upside-down in the water. So she was the first to set eyes on the body and in the most shock. On top of everything that they’d been through, Dipper reflected, this was the last thing she needed. And so he put one arm around her - hesitantly, though she wasn’t as sensitive to physical touch as he was - and led her away from the crowd. He expected Bill to follow after them but, like always, he’d already vanished.

As they walked back to their cabin, Dipper found that he was torn between going with her and staying to get a better look at the body. It was important, after all, that he gathered as much evidence as possible and so far all he had was the note that had been sent to Wendy, the rest being nothing but hearsay (namely, Pacifica Northwest’s claim that Bill was the killer, or at least the person who had committed the first murder). But Bill couldn’t have committed the second, could he, because the woman in the pool (who has presumably drowned) and he’d been with Dipper at the time. Sort of. There was a chance that he’d drowned her in the pool and then hurried to the changing room but Dipper didn’t believe that for a second.

Something else that was bothering him was the fact that nobody had been in or around the pool when his sister had gotten there - not even a lifeguard. That was suspicious to say the least. Someone had to have been there - precisely for the reason of stopping events like this! This was how Dipper came to suspect that as opposed to the deaths being the result of a single crazed killer, there may have been darker forces at work. Not necessarily supernatural forces like the journal he’d found in Ford’s room suggested, but definitely something deeper and darker than he’d initially thought.

It was clearly organised and carefully thought-out, not just a spare of the moment attack on the nearest innocent bystander. People must have been lured away - guests, staff, the lifeguard - but Mabel hadn’t been accounted for. That’s why she had gotten there before anyone else, but still too late. So maybe there wasn’t only one killer, but at least two - an organisation of criminals, perhaps. One to lure everyone else away and one to commit the crime. That made sense, but it wasn’t perfect. Dipper made a mental note to discuss his ideas with Bill the next time he saw him.

Of course, in spite of his impulses to return to the swimming pool and make sure to inspect the body as closely as possible while he still had the chance, he stayed by Mabel’s side and attempted to ignore his compulsions. Stan and Ford both came to see them shortly after they reached their cabin. Their attention was mainly focused on Mabel, making sure she was alright, but Ford sat with Dipper as well after a little while and comforted him. Knowing what the two of them had been through at home made it all the more important that they were given the right emotional care even if Dipper tried to refuse it.

This time their ban on leaving the cabin was enforced even more strictly than the last time. And yet, as his two great uncles were leaving, Dipper still found the courage to ask about the woman who’d drowned. He needed to know - though he wasn’t going to be letting either of them know he and the blond were working on discovering and exposing the culprit behind the deaths - and the look Ford gave him when he asked indicated to him some level of understanding; perhaps his uncle was just as desperate for answers as he was.

Stopping in the doorway, Ford turned and looked over his shoulder at him. Stan had already left by then and it was probably for the best (if he’d heard what Ford said next he would started yet another argument with him and that wasn’t what either of the younger twins needed at that moment in time). With a heavy sigh, Ford took one look at the hopefulness in Dipper’s eyes and his hardened exterior cracked. They were the same, really, with the same thirst for answers and he - knowing what he did about the subject Dipper was enquiring about - couldn’t find it in him to leave without giving him the answers he was craving.

“You’re really interested in this, aren’t you?” Dipper nodded eagerly - though Mabel looked confused - and that was enough to convince him. He shut the door and moved closer, standing at the foot of Dipper’s bed. “Well, she’s been identified - not long after you two left, I should think. She was the lifeguard who was meant to be on duty at the time of her death.”

Dipper just stared at him and blinked, half-thinking he was joking. Lifeguards didn’t drown. Lifeguards didn’t drown by themselves, that was for sure, so there was no doubt in his mind that it was murder, but why kill someone and make it look like an accident if that accident wouldn’t be expected to happen? It made no sense whatsoever and after a brief hesitation, he spoke up and told Grunkle Ford what he thought - that it was incredibly suspicious. He smiled at the realisation that Ford was thinking the exact same thing.

“I don’t know anything else about her. Sorry, Dipper,” he apologised, turning back towards the door. “Oh, and just one more thing,” he started, Dipper’s eyes lighting up again. “Please, don’t go putting yourself in danger just for the sake of getting answers about all this. Sometimes, you can’t let your curiosity get the best of you - not on your own, anyway.” Then he turned and left without another word, leaving Dipper feeling confused and intrigued.

Mabel had curled up on her bed - on top of the blanket - and was snoring lightly. Dipper’s impulses told him to leave her alone and ignore his uncle’s warning about his curiosity. He needed to get to Bill or at least find someone else he could talk to about it all - someone who wouldn’t try and stop him. What he really needed was a suspect, but there had been no-one besides Mabel around at the time of the murder. Mabel. A thought entered his mind but he shook it free, refusing to accept it. She couldn’t have done it; he really believed that. Aside from the fact that she was only twelve years old, just like him, she’d never fought back when she really needed to so why, now, would she set out on a murderous rampage?

But he still couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d been missing when he’d happened across the first body and the first person to discover the second felt as if it may have been the key to uncovering the culprit. So it wasn’t Mabel, but she may have seen something that could point him in the right direction.

She wasn’t pleased when he woke her up, understandably, but that was the furthest thing from Dipper’s focus at the time. It was irrelevant, nowhere near as important as finding out who had committed the murders. He needed answers and if Mabel was able to help him get them, then she was just going to have to put up with being woken up to talk about it. 

Sitting up in her bed, she groaned and scowled at him, complaining about him waking her up. He ignored her complaints and got straight to the point. “Mabel, just… just be quiet for a minute, will you?” he hissed, clamping his hand over her mouth to silence her. He should have been more sensitive and he knew it, instantly removing his hand when he realised how he would have reacted had anyone grabbed at him so roughly. Having someone’s hand roughly clamping over his mouth would have brought back flashbacks to a scarier time he was struggling to forget about. Mabel was just like him. They’d gone through the same horrifying experiences together, so why hadn’t he considered her before he’d grabbed her? The answer was simple. It was instinctive.

And yet she was completely fine. No hyperventilating, no dissociating, no shrieking in fear or fighting him off. Even though she’d gone through exactly what he’d gone through. Even though this morning she’d gone through even worse. She was completely fine.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, finding it hard to comprehend her lack of anxiety. She simply grinned at him in reply and asked what he wanted. “Is there anything you can tell me about the body you saw? Anything that might help us figure out who did it?” It was a difficult question to answer and he knew it, so he wasn’t surprised when she shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “Wait,” he started after a moment of silence. “What do you know about Pacifica Northwest?”

Pacifica Northwest had been the one to supposedly accuse Bill of committing at least the first murder and she had been quick to do so. And as far as Dipper was concerned, only a guilty person would try so hard to immediately incriminate someone else - someone Dipper believed to be innocent.

“Pacifica?” Mabel repeated, her voice full of uncertainty. “I don’t think she had anything to do with it.”

“Why else would she claim that Bill did it?” Dipper snapped back a little too harshly, challenging her. Shrugging her shoulders, Mabel looked up at him and suggested that maybe Bill had done it. Lying back on his bed, Dipper gave the idea some thought. It was possible, of course (almost anyone on the boat could have been involved) but he simply didn’t believe it. Although it would have been perfect - to pretend to try and solve a murder that he had committed, thereby giving himself the opportunity to point out that no-one in their right mind would want a crime to be solved if they had committed it while simultaneously evading capture by planting evidence and framing the innocent - Dipper just didn’t believe it. The look in Bill’s oddly coloured eye when he had begged him to believe in his innocence, the sound of his voice as he pleaded him… It had all seemed so genuine. Bill couldn’t have done it. That’s the conclusion Dipper came to.

But then Mabel pointed out that Ford had been quick to express displeasure in Dipper’s growing friendship with the blond and he suddenly had something new to think about. Why had his uncle been so adamant that he would not speak to him again? Then again, he had been adamant that he would not leave his and Mabel’s cabin after the first body had been found, so perhaps it was nothing to worry about. But he had seemed to hold an opinion of Bill without even meeting him, leading Dipper to believe that they had likely met before - either the two of them had met before or Ford knew something about Bill’s family or past that he didn’t.

But for now, Bill wasn’t the focus. Pacifica Northwest was. She was his prime suspect thus far and, even though she didn’t look much like a blood thirsty killer, she could have had help. At that point in time, Dipper was almost one hundred percent sure she was involved.

Mabel had fallen asleep again. He was halfway across the cabin, heading towards the door, when he heard her snore quietly. He whipped round immediately, gazing back at her as a sudden feeling of regret filled his heart. How could he have even considered leaving her alone? She needed him, even if she wasn’t showing it - even if she was asleep. He could always go and interrogate Pacifica later.

And that’s exactly what he did - hours later and with Wendy, Soos and Mabel in tow.

Stan and Ford had insisted that the four of them go off and find a place to eat together whilst they stayed behind (they were being particularly secretive about what they had planned and Dipper’s curiosity was excruciating, wearing him down rapidly and he knew he would snap soon and have to find out what they were doing). As luck would have it, Pacifica Northwest was eating alone at a table across the room from them. Dipper ate faster than anyone else - which shocked his sister, who had noticed him going off his food lately - and excused himself, failing to tell anyone where he was going.

Mabel knew. It was so obvious to her that he was going to speak to Pacifica but neither Soos nor Wendy could fathom where he was going in such a hurry. They still watched him, though. As they chatted amongst themselves, they watched him from across the room, making it their responsibility to keep an eye on him.

In spite of his apprehension, Dipper strode towards Pacifica’s table hurriedly and sat down opposite her without bothering to ask for her permission (he had a feeling she’d say no anyway and he would have still had to stay and talk to her regardless). Clearing his throat to capture her attention, he introduced himself - simply as Dipper - and then began his interrogation without wasting any time. “You’re Pacifica Northwest, right?” he asked and the blond girl nodded her head and scowled at him, demanding that he left her alone. He ignored her demand and carried on. “I heard you might know something about the person who killed that guest the other day - the one who had his throat slit.” It disturbed him how casual he was able to act even though every word that left his mouth made him feel sick.

She looked up at him then with a smirk on her face, apparently amused. “Yeah?”

He couldn’t decipher the meaning of her cryptic reply but he pressed on regardless. “I heard you saw someone with the murder weapon… Is that true?” She nodded her head and pursed her lips together, cold eyes boring into him in the most unnerving way possible. “Well, I was just wondering how you knew what the murder weapon was - specifically, I mean. Obviously it was a knife of some kind but…”

“I know because I saw him do it, okay?!” she suddenly snapped at him, slamming her hands down on the table as she jumped up from her chair. “I saw that creepy one-eyed weirdo kill a man on my dad’s ship! Do you really think I want to go around talking about it with strangers? I don’t!”

She had practically been reduced to tears by the time she was finished and Dipper didn’t know how to react. If she was lying, she was very convincing and now he didn’t know who to believe.

Scrambling to his feet, he muttered a flustered apology under his breath and scurried back to the table where Mabel and the others were waiting for him. His interrogation session with Pacifica hadn’t gone the way he’d planned and it had ended early, but he still had something to share with Bill the next time they spoke - Pacifica Northwest’s father owned the Morning Star. It may have been irrelevant or it might not have been. He just didn’t know.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But one thing he hadn’t accounted for was that the next time he saw Bill would be quite as traumatic as it actually was. Hours ago, probably, he’d gone to sleep in the bed next to Mabel’s, safely locked inside their cabin overnight. And then he was hitting his head against something cold and hard and his eyes flew open, light streaming into his vision from behind his eyelashes. The surface beneath him was wooden. A floor, he deduced as he gazed at. But it wasn’t the one in his cabin where he’d fallen asleep; it was different. Then he saw books - rows and rows of books. He knew then where he was: the library. What he didn’t know was how he’d wound up there.

And then he caught sight of a red droplet daring towards the floor, just a few inches away from him. But there was more than just a droplet. Still lying on the floor, Dipper twisted his head round and felt his pulse instantly accelerate, beating so fast he thought it might explode. His breath was caught in the back of his throat and it took him a moment to calm himself down so that he was really able to understand what was going on. He told himself it was just a nightmare. He had nightmares a lot, though not ones like this. Not usually, but maybe just tonight…

Hundreds of red droplets had gathered together to create a puddle of crimson, metallic liquid. Blood. And beside that puddle, with his back propped up against a bookcase, was Bill. His clothes, still as elegant as always, were caked in blood and a knife stuck out from the milky flesh of his right forearm, blood oozing out from the wound. As soon as Dipper realised who it was, he pushed himself up into a kneeling position and hurried towards him, only to be stop dead in his tracks when the blond lifted his head up and grinned.

“It’s okay, kid. I… I meant to do this.”

All Dipper could do at that moment was hope and pray that none of it was real. It was just a nightmare. It had to have been just a nightmare. And if it was, it was the worst one he’d ever had.


End file.
